One Magic Night
by Hazel Fae
Summary: Roger's decided to quit heroin, but it's not as easy as he thinks. This is basically one night of Roger being in withdrawal as well as a little bit before & after. Rating for reference to drug use and one minor swear. PreRENT ONESHOT


**A/N: I know that right now I'm in the middle of another story, but I decided I needed a break from fluff and humor and write some good old drama. I've had this idea forever, and finally decided to write it. **

Disclaimer: I own something, yeah! (Does a happy dance) But it's not RENT, boo. (Does a sad dance that looks more like flopping on the floor)

One Magic Night

_January 1__st__, 1995_

"Hey, Mark, have any resolutions for the year?" Collins asked, wondering why people always waited until New Year's to make a change. Mark shook his head, rolled over, and groaned, drunk on martinis. "Okay, how 'bout you, Roger?" Roger muttered something inaudible.

"Come again?" Collins asked.

"I said, I think I'm going to quit. Heroin needles gave April the virus and I can't keep taking the thing that killed her." Roger mumbled. This news was enough to get even Mark's attention.

"You know what this means, right?" Collins questioned.

"Yeah, I'll have more money that won't be spent on drugs, I might save a few people from HIV by not infecting any needles, and I won't get tracked down by the police and stuck in jail because I'm in possession of smack."

"Yes, but no. It means you'll have to go through withdrawal, which is what happens when your body has been taking something for so long that it becomes dependent on it. It's slow and it's painful. Most people relapse and end up using again. Other than that it's sunshine and rainbows." Collins corrected with his usual sarcasm.

"I'm willing to do it." He responded "Losing April was like losing a part of me, I feel like this is the only way to make it up to her."

"If that's what you want to do then we're here to help you through it." Collins said, although he was slightly doubtful that Roger would go through with it, the guitarist had trouble committing to pretty much anything.

ONE-SONG-GLORY-ONE-SONG-GLORY-ONE-SONG-GLORY-ONE-SONG-GLORY-ONE-SONG-GLORY

_A Week Later_

Roger lay sprawled on his bed, trying to compose his one great song. After days of writer's block, things were finally going well, for a little while, that is.

"Damn it, why can't I write straight?" Roger asked under his breath. Every time that he went to put the pen to paper, his hand started shaking. Frustrated, he threw the music aside, and glanced at the clock. 12:08. _I should probably get some sleep, _He thought _I'm performing at the Life Café tomorrow._ So with that, the musician rolled over and fell asleep.

Roger woke up in what many call the early hours of the morning, and some consider late at night. He wondered why he was awake, and then realized that he felt sick and was shaking violently.

"Mark" Roger called out into the dark, his voice cracking. "Mark, I'm going to be sick." Roger stood up and started to run to the bathroom, but was shaking so hard that his knees have out halfway there. He collapsed onto the floor and vomited. Mark then appeared next to him.

"Roger, are you okay?" Mark asked, a waver a fear in his voice. "What did you eat last night?"

"I didn't"

"Oh, um, I'll go get Collins." Mark said feeling worried. This was Roger, his tough, unshakeable friend, the one who took everything in stride, and it was terrifying to see him lying helpless on the floor. He rushed into the philosopher's room and as soon as he was awake Mark started to tell the story, unfortunately he was so shaken that none of it made sense.

"Roger's on the floor and he didn't eat anything and he's sick and what's going on and does this mean that he's not performing at the Life tomorrow and I'm scared." Mark rambled.

"Whoa, just slow down, Roger's sick and he's lying on the floor?" Mark nodded. "Okay, let me check it out, but I have a feeling he's in withdrawal." The news made Mark gasp, and the two made their way towards their sick friend. When they arrived in the hall Collins knelt down next to him.

"Roger, when did you last take heroin? I really need to know this; it might save us a trip to the ER." Collins said in a soothing voice.

"I've been trying to quit for a week but the longest I've lasted was a few hours. I think I last took it yesterday around noon." He answered from his curled up position on the floor.

"Okay, well you're probably in withdrawal. The good news is that the worst of this will be over in about five days, the bad news is that you're probably going to be experiencing less severe symptoms for the next six months." Collins stated matter-of-factly, and Roger vomited again, still shaking. "Mark, will you help me take him to the bathroom? And don't try to clean that up; we don't need you getting HIV, too." Together they pulled Roger onto his feet and managed to get him into their tiny bathroom without him being sick again. When they sat him on the side of the bathroom Mark noticed tears on his friends face. This got him more scared then before; he had never seen Roger cry. When April died he had just had this look on his face like the world was over, when he was nine and broke his arm he had only clenched his jaw and grimaced, but never, no matter what, had Roger Davis ever cried.

"Roger are you okay?" Mark asked tentatively.

"I don't know. I just feel depressed and horrible and irritated and I have a cramp in my leg." Roger answered, more tears running down his face. Mark sat down next to his best friend and put an arm around him.

"It's going to be okay Roger, I promise. I'll help you through this, you're not alone." He told him, meaning every word that he said.

_Ten Days Later_

"Well, goodnight Roger." Mark called from his room.

"G'night." He hollered from his. Roger lay down and prepared for another long night. He had been feeling better, but hadn't slept through a full night for ten days. Feeling exhausted, the musician rolled over and tried to get some sleep.

Roger awoke to a crash, and suspecting that someone was breaking in; he began to advance towards the kitchen.

"Mark, what are you doing?"

"I was getting a cold pack for my neck and I dropped it, I had slept in a really bent over position all night." With those words a smile lit up Roger's face.

"Did you say all night?" He asked.

"Yeah, did you sleep all night Roger?" Mark questioned, finally grasping the meaning of the words. Roger simply high-fived his best friend.

"We won Roger!" Mark exclaimed, "We won!

"Not quite yet." He said, and disappeared into his room, reemerging with a bag of heroin in hand. "I was thinking of going back, it all just seemed too hard, but I got through, which is what matters." With that the guitarist walked into the bathroom and flushed the final portion of his stash.

"This is for you April." He whispered "You helped me through this, whether you knew it or not."

**A/N: I did my research, so pretty much everything in here about withdrawal is factual. I'm going to be taking a little break from writing, but Hadassah has a bunch of stories up her sleeve. It would make my day if you reviewed, so push the purple button!**


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